


solve for x

by tvxq



Category: SHINee
Genre: M/M, a key's recent instagram activity au, canonverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 13:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6986944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tvxq/pseuds/tvxq
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>kibum plus jonghyun to the power of instagram, is probably an equation neither of them should attempt to solve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	solve for x

**Author's Note:**

> • listen i know jjong had his album launch turn-up on the 24th but for…a second…let’s pretend…it was the 25th…and he had m-countdown the day after…thanks   
>  • also the summery is inaccurate bc it should be an expression not an equation i knOW let me Live   
>  • alternative title; Friday Morning With Public Relations At S.M Entertainment S/S 16 F/W Lookbook

he wakes up, groggy, and the first thing jonghyun thinks is ‘ _oh shit_ ’. because usually, he’s slept on his right side, elbow tucked up funny, a pillow-esque extension of his body underneath his head, his other arm probably still hanging onto his phone, draped over his side. roo occasionally finds her way onto the bed too, but jonghyun’s been far too busy with pre-album prep to keep track of her.

the ‘ _oh shit_ ’ is pre ordained, not vocal. jonghyun’s not sure he has the capacity to move his lips. or his legs. or anything. there is an arm around his torso and it is definitively not meant to be there.

he does not move.

“oh shit.” he tries to say, because it’s a fair representation of how he feels. “oh.” he sounds it out. every syllable, every word. crisp little sound. tries to get the most out of whatever voice he has. “shit.”

“ _oh sh-_ “

“shut the _fuck_ up.” something says, and jonghyun peeks one eye open, tired of relying on a single one of his six senses to determine his location.

he’s at home, that much he knows, but it’s still oh shit because he’s at home, spread out in his bed and there is still an arm over his torso. a bit more glancing around, his room is a mess and he is very, very tired.

“just-“ the voice says, and he recognises the sound and then instantly the feeling of the arm and he nearly flies out of bed he’s that startled. he does not, fly out of bed, for the sole reason that he is very, very tired, and he cannot move. “go back to sleep.” kibum mumbles, burying his mouth into the curve between jonghyun’s shoulder and head and he wants to scream.

“oh shit.” he whispers it this time, but kibum grumbles.

“i just said shut up.”

“bummie. this is a very compromising position - if somebody walks into the room-“ he tries to tread lightly, because it is a very delicate subject of _There Is Another Man In My Bed, Yes, I Do Want Him Here, But At What Cost Am I Willing To Risk His Arms Around Me?_

“i locked the door.” he mumbles, still thick with sleep. “so. go back to sleep. you record your stupid song at like…two pm…that’s like nine hours away.”

jonghyun cannot bring himself to think. maybe he needs to pee. but he’s just so so comfortable, and it’s been a while since he’s allowed himself to feel this content.

the curtains above his bed have been closed a little; a little more then they normally are. sunlight beams down, soft and attentive and he cannot live without the feeling of sunlight on his skin.

he wants to stay like this forever.

he has no idea how long he actually does, but at some point, kibum curls up against him, kisses his ear, and gets up to go make coffee.

“thanks babe,” jonghyun calls, but he doesn’t think he can get anything past his lips. A Live Music Show Today Will Be Very, Very fun, he tells himself.

**/**

 

image control is the worst part of existing. it’s often just a snap rotation between public relations, managers and, when the scandal is badbadbad, sooman himself. jonghyun doesn’t look forward to sitting tense in a blank white room and being reminded of his expectations and responsibilities.

he also can’t find his shirt.

“kibum.” he rasps, half aware his voice has completely given up and he literally has to record a comeback stage in a few hours. he is so dead.

kibum’s not wearing a shirt either. he’s wearing pants.

“you have my pants.” he complains, reaching out for a kibum he cannot reach. in the doorway he stands, a mug in both hands and jonghyun can smell the coffee. he wants to cry.

“yes. you’re not getting them back.” kibum says, curtly, wandering forward to place a mug by jonghyun’s bedside table. he smells like perfume and food, and it’s the part of jonghyun that has been buried very, very deep, Never To Be Seen Again Limited Editon, that wants to reach up and tug kibum back into bed.

but he’s already done his hair and makeup for the day. jonghyun fucks with a lot of shit, but you don’t fuck with kim kibum’s face and or hair ensemble when presented with the opportunity.

so jonghyun does not. he just shifts the blankets over so he can sit up and sip at his mug of coffee while kibum settles near the end of the bed, playing on his phone.

they’re both quiet for a while; a contented silence, before jonghyun chooses to speak.

“i don’t mean to sound subjective,” jonghyun begins. again, treading lightly. “but what did we do-?” he’s not sure the question is worded in a way that kibum will understand the context of the situation or the answer he wants, because it could certainly well be completely open to interpretation.

kibum is not stupid though. he tucks a foot underneath his other, cross legged on the end of jonghyun’s bed, phone plugged into the wall, scrolling through it quietly.

“last night? made out. minho’s got photos on snapchat, but that’s pretty much it.”

the oh shit is very very real, right now. how is kibum so calm about this. he should be freaking out. jonghyun doesn’t like feeling like the panicky one.

kibum just takes another sip from his mug of coffee, and taps on another snapchat story.

“there’s some photos from the party. nothing incriminating. it was low-key and turnt and we made out. we’re not kids anymore.”

jonghyun wants to know the implications of that, because it certainly means something. he clears his throat not-so-subtly, and waits patiently for kibum to reiterate.

“you can’t be serious.” he huffs, after the silence stretches out and jonghyun’s big eyes go all-expectant and pouty. “we’ve been casually making out since we were like…twelve.”

“eighteen,” he defends, pouting. kibum waves his hand whimsically. whatever, the gesture says, and he allows himself to snort. “and i am serious. we haven’t ‘casually made-out’ for a while.”

he pauses.

“how come it’s gotta take a drunken loft party gone turnt for you to want to casually make out with me?” his voice is so soft this time, jonghyun doesn’t even recognise himself.

“it’s not like that.” kibum says, just as soft. he turns his phone off and sets his coffee down. still crosslegged, he leans over so his and jonghyun’s faces are near level. he pecks jonghyun’s nose. “see? i can kiss while sober.”

jonghyun wants to punch him in his stupid gorgeous face. he scowls instead. “that wasn’t a kiss. i believe the term you used was ‘casual making out’.” now he’s really testing the waters. kibum raises an eyebrow - the one with the scar, and jonghyun’s big brown eyes follow his gaze.

“you’re a shit.” kibum tells him, matter-of-factly. but he leans down and kisses him anyway.

 

**/**

 

“we are _not_ moving in together.” kibum yells. jonghyun wasn’t aware that was an option, but kibum is now currently tearing his bathroom apart, complaining about the state of both his life and apartment.

jonghyun has to agree; they’re both one hell of a mess.

 

**/**

 

they walk into the broadcasting building together. kibum is wearing jonghyun’s shirt and he’s sure half of the people in the building know that. their shoulders touch as they pass by, and the amount of eyes that follow them is almost distracting.

“shut up.” kibum says to the room full of makeup, before they’ve even spoken. most purse their lips, like they have been sufficiently silenced from asking any and all questions. the other remaining few just look offended. jonghyun hides a snigger, but then kibum shoves him forward and tells the pd to get him something for his voice because he has to sing, and then he’s gone.

 

**/**

 

half way through she is, jonghyun can see kibum by the edge of the stage. he’s dancing, in his own tiny little way, and jonghyun’s heart does The Stupid Thing where it starts racing and his hands get clammy because kibum is literally so gorgeous and adorable and he wants to cry real tears.

he doesn’t - he sucks up his never ending love for kibum and pushes on through the dance.

 

/

 

taemin is a little shit.

“taemin is a little shit,” jonghyun whispers to kibum on the couch next to him. “pass it on.”

kibum doesn’t even look up his phone, scrolling through naver with a furious and nefarious intent to look as detached and uninterested as possible. jonghyun does not like his attention being diverted elsewhere, especially when it’s just he, kibum, taemin and a few coordi’s and pd’s in the dressing room.

the couch is warm and he is clingy.

“kibum.” he says. kibum doesn’t look up this time either. he blinks, and a piece of paper hits jonghyun on the nose.

“ow what the fuck.” it’s a scrunched up little ball, and kibum jolts too, as soon as jonghyun expresses his surprise. looking up, kibum eyes jonghyun for a second then returns to his phone. jonghyun unfurls the paper ball.

i heard that fuckface, taemin has written in pink sharpie. jonghyun rips it up and beams at him across the room.

“ki-bum.” jonghyun whines again, bored. he’s tired; music bank tomorrow. m countdown today. sleep never. kibum looks up, not quite pissed but nonplussed, and closes his phone, tossing it over onto jonghyun’s jacket in a big pile of Their Stuff they’d dragged in.

“what?” he asks, half pissy. jonghyun says nothing, but beams, and tugs a too-tall kibum into his lap. arms around his waist, casually strung together. there’s nothing platonic about the way they sit, but he can’t help but beam up at kibum with big eyes.

his nose gets booped, kibum realising the finality of his position in jonghyun’s lap and accepts his place within the circle of life. half-pissy, he stays there, kinda frowning, until the flash from a camera goes off and they both look up at a taemin holding kibum’s phone.

another photo. jonghyun’s beaming, so content, until kibum squirms in his lap to try and snatch the photo away from taemin.

“so cute - “ their maknae coos, waving the phone threateningly. jonghyun is a nameless victim in all of kibum’s shifting, squirming and complaining, and forces himself silent.

taemin turns the phone around again, waving the instagram app in a silent and torturous expression of victory upon his face.

“don’t you dare post that picture,” kibum says, staring taemin in the eye.

 

**/**

taemin posts the picture.

on kibum’s account, to his three million or so followers.

paired with the suss as fuck photos of them leaving jonghyun’s loft together and then the fantakens of m countdown, jonghyun has a very acute sensor of the magnitude of this scandal-to-be.

they’ll handle it. they always do. but then again, jonghyun only has to log onto naver to see just how Big and Bad this is getting and taemin really is a little shit.

 

**/**

 

_SHINee’s Key And Jonghyun; The Truth Behind The Famous ‘Closer Then Brothers’_

_-_

_Key And Jonghyun Of SHINee And The Reason Fans Should Not Worry About Female Idols Dating Their ‘Oppa’ First_

_-_

_160526 M-Countdown - SHINee Key And Jonghyun Arriving Together? HQ Images [Five Files Attached]_

_-_

_150 Reasons Why Jongkey Is Real_

_-_

_SHINee’s Jonghyun And Key - Bromance Or Romance?_

**/**

 

he considers writing something of an explanation. because now, photos of he and kibum - sketchy lq photos taken from a long way away - start floating around twitter and weibo and people are wondering why, he and kibum had left that day together, shoulders bumped as kibum had led jonghyun into his bmw and they’d left for the music show together.

he wishes that people would stop reading so much into things and calm down because the only thing close to an explanation he can think of is straight up _‘i am literally crying right now i am so tired_ ’ with no context, poor grammar, poor spelling and incorrect capitalisation.

that’ll show pr what kind of grown-up he is.

 

**/**

 

he and kibum go home separately. it’s for the best. his phone makes this awful quack noise every time he gets a kakao notification.

jonghyun does not want to become a duck.

from: manager-hyung

_pick up the phone._

to: manager hyung

_it was taemins fault_

 

from: manager-hyung  
_2 missed calls_

 

from: manager hyung  
_your public relations noona wants to speak to you. we will arrange image control tomorrow morning. please, refrain from accessing sns until we have this cleared up._

 

from: bummie ♡ ♡ ♡  
_dont pick up hyung’s call. its a trap. pr + image control tmr morning_

 

from: taemin  
_get rekt_

 

to: taemin

_i hate u_

 

jonghyun plugs his phone in and tries to get rid of the quack that haunts him. he dreams of ducks and a world where he can hold kibum’s hand in the street without worrying about a camera or scandals or pr or anything.

it is oddly liberating. he cannot see himself living in a world where that would be acceptable. that’s what dreams are for.

 

**/**

 

the first time his manager had told him he needed to keep his distance from kibum a bit more, he’d cried.

he was nineteen, and very delicate. they’d only just debuted, and still young, bowing the full ninety degrees and setting their reputation in stone, trying to figure out their standing in the idol world.

“just a heads up, jonghyun-ssi,” his manager had said, pulling him away after a music show stage. it had been so loud, and jonghyun had wanted to tug away, but remained firm on two feet, glancing behind manager hyung for any sign of his best friend. clearing his throat, his hyung had nearly glared. “it’s a matter of keeping off-camera things, off-camera.”

he hadn’t understood. so he cried.

kibum flicked his forehead when he’d had makeup re-applied, but put his long fingers around his wrist quietly when they’d moved back to the car and asked him softly what was wrong. jonghyun had watched him, and the way the lights at the intersection had warped the colour of his face. red, then green.

“nothing.” he almost wailed, close to crying again. kibum flicked him, but it was a little softer, and when they came home, he’d yelped at minho to _get out_ that night, locking them both in jonghyun’s room for the night to huddle under the dovet and giggle about everything.

off camera, hyung had instructed. jonghyun, in turn, had refused to comply.

 

**_/_ **

 

and comply he did not.

eight years later, and he finds himself at the same place he had before, weeks after debut, wobbly lip and wet eyes after being told he wasn’t allowed to publicly kiss his bandmate on the cheek.

image control.

jonghyun clears his throat. it’s public relations noona this time; her eyes narrow like she’s already tired of looking at him and he waits for ‘it’s the middle of your comeback’ but receives nothing but silence.

the silence inhales and exhales, as if a sentient being in the room with them too.

“you’re both grown men,” she says, after what feels like years, refusing to meet jonghyun in the eye. he wonders if she knows but then figures he really doesn’t want to know at all, and starts playing with the hem of his shirt. his fingernails need trimming. he’ll call key for manicures tonight, he thinks. they can watch the re-runs of descendants of the sun and take incriminating photos of jinki through the tv screen and photoshop his crying face onto things.

“jonghyun-ssi.” a warning, nearly. “please, pay attention.” her fingers tap against the board in her hands, and he splutters a quick apology, still glancing down at his fingers.

“sorry. comebacks. i’m tired.” he attempts. she seems not to buy it, eyes narrowed again. jonghyun’s cheeks flush a little.

“regardless. grown men. you both understand the expectations and responsibilities you have. not just for yourselves, but shinee, as well as the company. we’d expect nothing less then admirability from the pair of you…”

she keeps going, and he - he really should be listening but there’s literally a small beige something stuck between two of her lower teeth, visible every time she speaks and jonghyun’s attention clicks instantly upon her teeth as she moves her mouth in stern instruction.

 _bread_? he wonders, as she asks a question, eyebrows raised expectantly. _ramen? no, probably bread._

“understood?” she asks.

“ _bread_.” he says, nodding.

“excuse me?”

“wait. shit. yes. i-i-mean. yes. i understand.”

 

**/**

jonghyun is scolded seperate from the group, only because he thinks sooman still has a bone to pick with him. this feels like a subtle retaliation for going behind his back to compose music for yg, and maybe his rebellious actions are finally bearing fruit in the form of double punishment, and double ‘these are your responsibilities’ speeches from two seperate publicists.

at least this time, he can just shut up and space out and let everyone else do the complaining - either way, sooman has won this time, because he is exhausted as fuck.

“it’s pretty much all taemin’s fault.” kibum informs their publicist. he sounds very matter-of-factly and minho sniggers beside jonghyun.

“indeed,” jonghyun seconds, nodding. taemin folds his arms, put out, but is promptly ignored. “he took the photo.”

“kibum-ssi, did you post the photo onto sns?” pr-hyung asks, exasperated. he runs a hand through his greasy hair and jonghyun almost recoils. he touches his own fluffy mop of hair, just to be safe he still has his remaining pink dignity attached to his body.

kibum shrugs. “no. it was taemin.”

“he started it -“ taemin begins, yelping.

“well, technically, i started it-“ minho explains, chest puffing up in near pride and all jonghyun can think is, i am surrounded by children. jinki, designer eye bags and mussed hair part of his Friday Morning With Public Relations At S.M Entertainment S/S 16 F/W Lookbook, seems to agree entirely with his unspoken statement, and heaves a sigh.

“please, no arguing.” he instructs, very little control over the situation as taemin sticks his tongue out at minho and receives a shocked gasp in response.

“i can’t see why kibum-ssi can’t remove the photo.” pr says, and jonghyun’s back straightens in hurt.

“he can’t!” he wails, just as kibum shrugs, “i’m fine. i’ll take it down, it’s not even that cute.” he says.

jonghyun hits him on the shoulder. “it’s your iphone wallpaper!” he shouts accusingly, unbelieving that he has sunken to this level, but also, understanding at the same time. he needs to win.

he swipes for kibum’s phone and quickly brings the screen to life, showing each individual in the room, carefully and thoroughly, the wallpaper; a refined and slightly less-edited version of the photograph taemin had taken of them at m countdown together.

kibum narrows his eyes in retaliation. he snatches the phone back with long fingers and locks the screen. “shut up! that doesn’t prove anything!” he attempts, grabbing his iphone and holding it to his chest preciously.

“shut up.” he tells the room, when all eyes fly to him curiously and accusingly. “shut _up_.”

image control. pr-hyung sighs. the entire company as a collective, sighs. maybe next year they’ll get it right.

_(they probably won’t)_

_(they definitely won’t)_

**Author's Note:**

> • okay so heavily based on Recent Events as in like..yesterday and the day before   
>  if u havent seen key’s instagram update…..pls….im   
>  • jongkey is my everything???   
>  • this is messy af but i do what i want like   
>  • as always…4 hannah


End file.
